


love is not like anything (especially a fucking knife)

by picht



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Come Eating, Crying During Sex, Crying Hannibal Lecter, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Season/Series 03, Submissive Hannibal Lecter, maybe?? - Freeform, might add more if i think of any, schizophrenic will graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24733198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: Will really doesn’t mean to stab Hannibal.{Will hurries over to Hannibal’s side, falling to his knees above the other man and pushing his hands away to inspect the wound himself. He presses on it a bit, feels blood seep between his fingers. It doesn’t seem to be too deep, just needs to be cleaned and dressed, but… Will presses on it again, a little harder, mostly out of curiosity to see what Hannibal will do. The blood on his hands is wet and hot and Hannibal gasps. He tries to hide the way his hips jerk, just a bit, but--oh. Will sees.}aka the one where will accidentally stabs hannibal but it's ok bc hannibal's totally into it.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 175





	love is not like anything (especially a fucking knife)

**Author's Note:**

> well. hi.
> 
> it's nearly 4 am and i'm not sure what to put here. ig i'll say that in this, will is schizophrenic, cuz that's my personal interpretation of his character. title is from the song i'm a fake by the used. i mostly listened to the album in love and death while writing this. this is pretty grody but these men are pretty grody! hope everyone likes it, please lmk if you do! hopefully more hannibal fics on the way

Will really doesn’t mean to stab Hannibal.

At this point, having shared a home and a bed with the man for months, Will’s mostly forgiven him, and the part of him that hasn’t is overpowered by the part of him that burns for Hannibal with every breath. The place Will’s at in his life now is not anywhere near what he could have predicted, but he’s come to terms with it. He’s had as much closure as he can, and Hannibal even lets the dogs Will’s accumulated sleep in the bedroom, so it’s genuinely not his intention to stab the man.

It’s just that he hasn’t had his antipsychotic for a few days and he’s roughly chopping meat for the dogs and when Hannibal walks into the kitchen from behind to grab Will by the waist, for a moment it’s not Hannibal’s arms around his hips, but dark, leathery arms and clawed hands instead. The period of time in which Will is no longer in a kitchen in the Scottish countryside but is instead trapped in his old house in Virginia is brief, but not brief enough to prevent him from turning without thinking and using his knife to slice at the first solid thing in his reach. The first solid thing in his reach, as it turns out, is Hannibal Lecter’s clothed abdomen.

Hannibal--who is no longer the black beast of Will’s dreams, but _Hannibal_ \--stumbles back till he hits the wall behind him, then slinks down to the floor. The shock is apparent on his face, and Will is frozen where he stands, looking at the blood seeping through the other man’s dress shirt and thinking, _Oh my God, I killed him._ “You ruined my shirt,” Hannibal says, grimacing. He lifts his hand to his torso to methodically poke around the wound, and it’s enough to jolt Will out of his frozen state into the present.

Will hurries over to Hannibal’s side, falling to his knees above the other man and pushing his hands away to inspect the wound himself. He presses on it a bit, feels blood seep between his fingers. It doesn’t seem to be too deep, just needs to be cleaned and dressed, but… Will presses on it again, a little harder, mostly out of curiosity to see what Hannibal will do. The blood on his hands is wet and hot and Hannibal gasps. He tries to hide the way his hips jerk, just a bit, but--oh. Will sees.

Will presses on the cut once more, quietly observing the way Hannibal gasps. He looks down and there’s--definitely a tent in Hannibal’s pants. Okay. Sure. This may as well happen, Will thinks, and brings a blood covered hand down to cup Hannibal’s crotch. “Don’t ruin my pants as well,” Hannibal tries to argue, but he looks more amused than anything. Will presses on the wound once more to shut him up. Hannibal doesn’t quite manage to hide the little choking noise he makes.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t be surprising that Hannibal would get off to being stabbed. Will quickly undoes Hannibal’s pants, leaving a smear of red on the zipper, and pulls Hannibal’s cock out. He can’t help but think that maybe he should have stabbed Hannibal sooner.

Hannibal is hard, cock filled out and an angry flushed color, and Will almost wraps his hand around it before pausing and thinking for a moment. Instead, he brings his hand back to the wound on Hannibal’s abdomen and presses down once again, watching intently as the blood bubbles out and pulls onto his fingers. He then wraps his hand around Hannibal’s cock, and the smear of red across the flesh as he begins pumping his hand makes his own cock twitch just as much as the gasp Hannibal gives.

Will moves his hand up and down, slowly at first then gradually faster. He swipes a thumb across the head of Hannibal’s cock, watches as the red of the blood on his hand meets the wet translucent precome dribbling from the tip. He watches raptly as the swirl of his thumb mixes them. When he looks up at Hannibal, he looks like a man possessed.

Hannibal is working his hips in time with the quick, dirty tugs of Will's hand on his cock--little, jerking circles, glazed eyes looking for all the world like he doesn't even realize he's doing it. When Will breathes out, “Pretty desperate for it, huh?” through a toothy grin, Hannibal releases a rugged gasp, his cock jerking in Will’s grasp. He really _is_ desperate for it--for _Will_. Always taking whatever Will will give him, never saying no or backing down from what Will asks of him, even when Will is sure he’ll discover a limit of Hannibal’s eventually.

Will had asked him about it once, after spending an hour and a half breaking the older man apart gently in their bed till he’d cried into his pillow. _Why do you let me do this to you?_ He’d asked, and then, _Is it always like this with you?_ Hannibal, never one for mincing words, had told Will that he’d never had sex like this before; had never let his guard down like this, never been opened up like this. His feelings for Will are just that strong.

Now, Will once again has Hannibal twitching under him, letting out little gasps and hiccups like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. Slightly lost in thought, Will realizes he’s been unintentionally pressing the hand that’s not on Hannibal’s cock into the cut, hard enough for tears to spring up in Hannibal’s eyes from the pain. Will revels in the power he feels, which he always feels when he finds himself in this position, towering over Hannibal (whether metaphorically or literally), breaking him apart, making him cry. He presses into the cut harder.

Hannibal swears under his breath and Will grins as he watches the precome spurting from his tip. He tightens his grip on Hannibal’s cock, and one look in Hannibal’s open, vulnerable eyes is all it takes for him to make the decision to bring his blood covered fingers up to his mouth, licking Hannibal’s blood up off his fingers, palm, wrist. He leans down, hunched over Hannibal’s frame, and takes the tip of Hannibal’s cock in his mouth, lapping at the wetness there, blood and precome mixing in his mouth.

It’s absolutely fucking disgusting, but it’s also the thing that brings Hannibal over the threshold from _almost_ to _there_ , hips jerking into Will’s mouth. Will just manages to pull off of Hannibal’s cock in time to get most of the other man’s come on his face. It’s not intentional, and it, also, is pretty gross, but the little noise Hannibal makes is incentive enough to Will’s ego that he doesn’t really mind.

Thinking for a moment, he presses once more into the wound on Hannibal’s abdomen, fingers once more wet with the man’s blood. It’s mostly out of curiosity that he then brings his hand up to his face, wiping some of Hannibal’s come off, then holds his fingers up to the man’s lips. Hannibal doesn’t do anything for a moment, leaving Will to wonder if he’s finally found his limit, but then he opens up and willingly takes Will’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the pads, sucking them clean, pure adoration on his face.

Will allows it for a few moments, but eventually removes his fingers, wiping them on his jeans. He grimaces at the feel of the mess on his face, eyeing the spot on Hannibal’s abdomen where he has an open fucking wound from a kitchen knife still. “You’re pretty gross, you know that?” Will asks, mostly joking but a little bit serious.

Instead of actually acknowledging what Will’s just said, Hannibal simply replies with, “Given the chance, I’d worship you.” His eyes are open and honest and Will manages to maintain eye contact for about five seconds before looking away.

“Stay here,” he says, wiping his palms on his jeans and standing up from where he’s been crouching. “I’ll get the first aid kit.” Cock still out, shirt ruined from the cut, Hannibal smiles up at him and does as he’s told.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to hmu on tumblr @ schizophrenicwillgraham !


End file.
